


The Muggle Way to Break the Ice

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Father/Son Incest, HP May Madness 2016, Imagination, Incest, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6737092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is on his own in London. Lucius is on his own at Malfoy Manor. It had seemed like a good way to avoid the inevitable, but there's this Muggle invention...</p><p>Written for HP May Madness 2016.<br/>Day 2 Prompts used: Blue, gin, wood. Kink: Narratophilia (dirty and obscene words or stories to a partner is sexually arousing)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Muggle Way to Break the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Absolutely nowhere please, and no translations either.
> 
> Other Notes: If you want to mope along with Draco at the beginning there, I recommend finding Linda Ronstadt's or Billie Holiday's version of "Am I Blue?" :)

Draco sat cross-legged in front of the living room fireplace in his new flat, feeling desolate. And cold. He couldn't seem to get warm enough that night. Or the night before. He added more wood to the fire, knowing it wouldn't make any difference.

It had been his father's idea that he should get his own place, where he could invite friends, decorate any way he liked and take his mind off... things. Things he wasn't supposed to think about or wish for, because it just wasn't done.

He leaned back against his sofa and listened to the song he was playing on his father's house warming gift: a vintage Wizard gramophone, spelled to play Muggle records. Draco had found a shop selling old vinyl ones just around the corner from his flat. The song playing was _Am I Blue?_ Well, it certainly fitted.

Draco absently reached for the glass of gin near the edge of the coffee table, took a sip, and pulled a face. Getting drunk had sounded like a good idea, but he didn't think he was cut out for it. The vile stuff would make him nauseous before it would make him drunk. He set the glass down and pushed it away.

_You'll meet someone, Draco. You'll see. It won't be long, and you'll be glad to have your own place. I'll be the last person you'll want there._

He wanted to cry. He was twenty years old, and he wanted to cry, because there was no one, but no one, he wanted in this beautiful, expensive, luxurious, elegant and horribly empty flat _except_ his father. No one else would fit there. No one else would fit into his life.

After his parents' divorce, he had started to drop hints. He'd been subtle, he thought, considering he had worshipped Lucius since he'd been a child. He'd thought, maybe naively, that his father would be the last person to put conventional morals above his own desires. And they were his own desires as much as Draco's, _that_ Draco was sure of - lingering looks full of heat, sentences drifting off into heavy silences when their eyes met across the dinner table, fatherly touches lasting far longer than they once had.

He pulled up his knees and rested his arms on them, dropping his head down on his forearms. He wondered what Lucius was doing back at the manor, all alone now except for house elves and memories.

There was a sudden loud ringing noise, and Draco jolted, confused. It came from the side table to his left, and he almost laughed at himself. The Muggle telephone! Stupid invention, really, but it had advantages over a fire call. It didn't make you hot and dizzy, for one thing, and you didn't need to sit hunched over for the duration. It rang again. Draco decided to let it ring, convinced it had to be a wrong number. No one knew his number, after all. No one except--

He scrambled to his knees and reached for the receiver, losing his balance and dropping it in his haste. "Hello!" he shouted at it, clumsily trying to get a grip on it the right way around. He cursed at it and, finally, he got the right end to his ear and heard soft laughter.

"Father!"

"Hello, Draco. Not having trouble with your Muggle gadgets, are you?"

Draco smiled, gripping the receiver with one hand and the edge of the sofa with the other to regain some kind of equilibrium. "Just some of them. How are you, father?"

There was a long pause. "I'm fine, Draco."

Draco frowned. It didn't sound convincing. He bit his lower lip while he considered his next words. He was always very careful these days, not wanting to risk rejection. "I was just thinking about you, father." There, no one could blame him for that, surely. It was harmless enough.

There was another pause. "I've been thinking about you too."

Draco's heart clenched. None of the things which came to his mind then would do. So he waited.

"I hope you're settling in nicely. Have you met your new neighbours yet?" There was something about Lucius' voice that made the words sound rehearsed, hollow.

"There's an old woman below me with half a dozen cats and as many grandchildren, and a lawyer who likes to give sordid parties on the floor above; he invited me up last night."

"Did you go?" Lucius asked. This time, his voice was even more hollow.

"No. He was smirking annoyingly when he invited me."

At this, Lucius laughed softly, and Draco let the sound and accompanying sensations wash over him. "Well, you _are_ very attractive, Draco."

Draco, careful not to dislodge the receiver, rested his forehead against the edge of the armrest and mumbled his response, "If I am, I have your genes to thank for it, father."

"Oh, Draco." Lucius sounded fond, and a little resigned, and there was a touch of a sigh in his voice. "It's good to hear your voice."

Draco smiled. The room was finally growing warmer. "I only moved to London two days ago."

"That's right, you did." Lucius was smiling too, it was clear to hear. "And here we are."

"Here we are," Draco agreed. _I wish,_ he thought. _But no, here I am, going crazy without you._

"As Muggle technology goes, this is not a bad device." Lucius sounded half surprised by the discovery.

"I was thinking that too," said Draco. "It's almost as if you're right here with me, except..."

"Yes?"

"Except... in a way it's more intimate than a conversation sitting next to each other." He cringed. "I'm sorry, father, I didn't mean--"

"You're right, Draco. It is intimate." Lucius sounded thoughtful. "I hadn't considered that before calling."

"Or you wouldn't have?" Draco had to ask.

Lucius admitted, "I'm afraid it wouldn't have stopped me." A pause, which felt heavy with decision. "I miss you very much, Draco."

Draco took a deep breath as if inhaling those words. "I miss you too, father. I miss you terribly."

"My Draco..." It sounded like a sigh made words, and it sounded so fragile that Draco feared anything he might say could shatter it, so he said nothing, and Lucius continued, "It's so frightfully easy to talk this way. It feels safer, as if one might say just about anything."

Draco's heart was hammering in his chest. "Since when have you sought safety, father?"

"I always have, when it comes to you, Draco. You're the only part of my life I've always wanted to protect and keep safe."

"Oh, father," Draco said, a little desperately. "I don't need protecting from you!"

Lucius seemed to be shifting wherever he sat. There was a sound of movement, fabric moving against fabric. "I feel these days, you need protecting from me more than from anything."

"Is that why I'm here?" Draco didn't realise he'd been clutching one of the toss cushions on his sofa so tightly, his fingers were starting to cramp up. He released his grip. "Is that why I'm sitting alone on my living room floor, feeling miserable, while you're all alone at home, maybe, just maybe, feeling a little miserable too?"

Lucius seemed to consider his next words carefully. "I _am_ miserable, Draco, I won't deny that, but maybe in time--"

"No," Draco disagreed. He gathered up all his courage. "Nothing will change. I've always loved you, father, and I've loved you more and more with each passing year. There's never been room in my heart for anyone else, and there never will be." When Lucius sighed, he added bravely, "If you can, tell me that you don't feel the same way."

This time, the pause was quite long. Lucius might have put down the phone for a moment, or got himself a drink. But when he spoke again, he said, "I can't, Draco. I wish I could, but I can't. You're my whole life, I've known that for some time."

Draco felt as if the sun had just come up inside him. He caressed the receiver, wishing he could somehow make the touch travel down the line. "I knew it." There was a very soft, resigned chuckle at the other end of the phone. "You never would have admitted it if we were face to face," Draco said quietly.

"Maybe not. And maybe that would have been better."

"No, it wouldn't." There were not many things in life Draco was completely sure about, but he was sure about that. "My heart doesn't ache so much now." He smiled. "Though every other part of me aches for you."

Lucius took a deep breath. "You're not playing fair, Draco." 

"I'm a Malfoy, father."

Lucius laughed softly. "You certainly are. I taught you too well."

Draco curled up at the edge of the sofa, one arm around the loose cushion. He felt dizzy, afraid, but he also knew this was their chance. They had taken the first step, and it was time to move forward. "There are so many other things I wish you would teach me too." Draco could practically hear his father think about the answer to that; he was sure he heard his inner struggle. 

"Tell me," Lucius finally said, sounding a little hoarse.

Feeling giddy, Draco closed his eyes and told him things he'd been thinking about for a long time. "I want you to teach me how to make you happy, father. I want to know how to love you, and how to touch you." When Draco heard only uneven breathing, he whispered, "I want you to hold me in your arms, father, and allow me to drink your breath from your lips."

"Draco," Lucius said the name like a caress. "You know I only sent you away because I can't bear to see but not touch you." He sighed. "Now I find I can't bear the thought of anyone else touching you. You're mine, Draco, all mine."

Draco wanted to jump up and cry out with joy. He held the phone tight to keep himself grounded and infused his next words with everything he felt. "I love you so much, father. I'll never belong to anyone but you."

"My precious boy. My love." Lucius' voice was like broken glass. He took a few steadying breaths and, unconsciously, Draco slowed his own breathing, as if to calm them both.

"I dream of you every night, father," Draco murmured. Then he added, for the sake of truthfulness, "I dream of you while awake too. I get nothing done." The chuckle at the other end of the line reassured him that they were in calmer emotional waters now, and Draco couldn't help but clarify, "I dream of you making love to me."

Lucius inhaled sharply. When he spoke again, he sounded suddenly much closer, yet at the same time more quiet, as if he was whispering urgently right against the mouthpiece, with his hand cupped around it. "And how I would make love to you, Draco."

"Tell me," Draco pleaded, repeating Lucius' own words from earlier. "What do you want to do to me, father?" He clambered up onto the sofa and curled into the corner, pressing the cushion against the front of his trousers. He hissed at the pressure on his cock, which had been growing ever since he'd first heard his father's voice on the phone.

Lucius breathed into his ear, "I want to kiss you until you remember no taste other than my lips." Draco closed his eyes, imagining. He pressed the cushion into his lap harder. "I want to take my time undressing you by the firelight, revealing your beautiful pale body, watching your skin flush as my hands slide over you, leaving shivers in their wake."

Draco was breathing heavily into the phone. He rapidly unbuttoned his shirt with his free hand, sliding it inside to trace over his chest, letting his fingers play with a nipple, imagining his father's fingers in their place.

"Are you touching yourself, Draco?"

Draco blushed. "Yes, father, but I can feel your touch with every word."

"Good," Lucius said, in a very low voice.

Draco smiled. He tucked the receiver against the side of his neck, pushed the cushion off his lap and unzipped his trousers. He shoved them down past his hips along with his boxers and settled back, gripping himself hard with one hand and holding the receiver to his ear again with the other. He didn't stroke himself, just held on for now, wanting his father to tell him what to do.

"Are you sitting in your favourite armchair, father? By the library fireplace?"

"Yes, Draco."

"Please father, I want you to touch yourself too. I want to imagine you sitting there with your legs slightly parted, drawing out your cock and caressing it with your strong hand, thinking of me standing naked in front of you." There was a sharp inhale, and sounds indicating that Lucius was granting his wish, and Draco continued, "Now imagine me kneeling in front of you, laying my head down on your thigh, my cheek rubbing against your cock, as I plead to be allowed to touch and taste you."

"Oh Draco, I can see your eyes light up when I give you permission. I can see you opening your mouth for me. And when I slide my cock between your lips, I know you'll sigh with satisfaction." Lucius' voice was less than steady now, which only made his words even more effective.

Draco's head was spinning, and he had started to stroke himself in earnest. It was impossible not to. He didn't miss the shift from mere possibility into future tense and felt light-headed at the thought. "I know you'll taste so good, father. I'll never get enough of you. I'll work so hard to give you pleasure, to be deserving of every drop of your essence."

"Draco..." Lucius was panting. "I know you'll be so eager, and I've wanted you for so long, I won't last long the first time."

"Nor will I, father. I'll be stroking myself hard, just as I am doing now, while making love to your cock. Will you let me swallow it all, father?" Draco flicked his fingers over his own tip, squeezed it tight and shuddered, raising a few drops of pre-come to his lips and the corners of his mouth. "Will you, father, or will you fill my mouth and then pull back, letting the rest of it splatter all over my face and chest?"

Lucius groaned. "Yes, Draco, just like that. I'll be marking you as mine."

Draco squeezed his eyes tightly shut, pumped himself rapidly two, three more times, then came hard with a soft cry. He flicked out his tongue over his lips, picking up every bit of spunk he'd deposited there, imagining he was tasting Lucius.

"Oh, Draco, Draco." Lucius' voice was deeper than Draco had ever heard it. He sounded as if he was struggling for control. "We've only just begun."

A slow smile spread over Draco's face. He felt at once sated and already in need of more. 

"I'll teach you how not to come too soon, Draco. I want to torment you with unending pleasure, teasing you until you're almost there, and then pull you back from the precipice. Again and again. Do you want that, Draco?"

"Oh God, yes, father. I want you to keep me on the edge for hours."

"That's my Draco." The smirk was clear in every word; it curled Draco's toes and sent shivers up his spine. "I'll lay you down on silk sheets and just look at you - naked and growing hard again already, flushed with need for my touch. I want you quivering as I kiss and lick every inch of your body. _Every_ inch, Draco."

"Please," Draco sighed.

"You'll turn over on your stomach to offer me your most sensitive part, spreading yourself wide for me so I can lick and kiss your tight pink hole and force my tongue inside you."

Draco gasped. He spread his legs wider, arching up off the sofa a little. Quickly licking his middle finger, he moved it under and behind his balls and pushed it inside slowly.

"Can you feel me there, Draco? Can you feel my tongue exploring your channel, making you ready for more?"

"Yes," Draco gasped. If he wriggled his finger quickly, it felt deceptively like a tongue. He imagined lying spread out on his stomach, with Lucius behind him, holding his cheeks apart to go deep, deep inside him. He almost came again right then, and he had to grip his cock painfully hard to hold back. He only just remembered to tuck the receiver against his neck, or it would have fallen. "That feels so good, father," he moaned.

"I know, Draco." Lucius' voice was soothing and exciting all at once. "I'm going to take my time preparing you. You taste so good, and I won't risk hurting you."

"But soon, father. I need you inside me. I need to feel your whole body covering me, and your cock sliding into me. Again and again. I don't mind a little pain, I don't want to feel empty anymore."

"Oh Draco, my love," Lucius breathed. "What are you doing to me?" He was breathing rapidly, and his breaths were punctuated with low moans now.

Draco could so easily imagine the picture of his father in his chair, working himself towards climax. He'd imagined it countless times before. He wanted it to be his hands, his mouth, his body his father used. "I'm offering myself to you, father. Use me. Love me. Take me." Draco memorised every panting breath. "Fill me up with your love, my beautiful daddy."

Lucius came with an unmistakable groan, and Draco bit his bottom lip, a shiver passing through him from head to toe.

Once Lucius regained some control over his voice, his first words were, "You incorrigible minx!"

Draco laughed softly. "It just came out that way." When Lucius laughed as well, sounding thoroughly relaxed and sated, Draco lay back with his head on the armrest of the sofa, smiling. "You know one thing you can't do with this Muggle phone?"

"What's that, Draco? I'm beginning to think it's possibly the best thing ever invented."

Draco agreed wholeheartedly with that, but he teased, "You can't keep someone quiet. Of course, if you were here..." He grinned. "If you were here, there would be so many ways."

"Draco, do you think we have use for a flat in London? You _and_ I?" asked Lucius, sounding amused.

"Oh, I think so. We should keep it. For visits to the theatre. And special occasions." 

Lucius laughed. "In that case, expect me there in half an hour for a proper house-warming."

Draco felt so happy, he thought he might burst. But he was a mess already, and half an hour was just enough time to have a shower. And prepare for the rest of their lives.

 

THE END


End file.
